


The gilded cage

by ThyCannoli (orphan_account)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Underage Sex, Crush at First Sight, Decadence, First Kiss, First Love, First Meetings, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Secrets, Self-Destruction, Smoking, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-16 02:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13626561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ThyCannoli
Summary: 17-year-old Robb has grown up in a religious family and kept his sexuality a secret, never acted on the urges he thinks are sick. One day, he decides enough is enough.“Shit, these freshies keep getting younger.” He mutters and shoots Robb an unfriendly look. “No, I won’t give you a joint.”“I didn’t -”“Listen, kid. Skip the small talk, I’ve seen you watching me. What d’you want?”You. I want you to peel away the makeup of lies from my skin, to take me apart and leave me stained.“To talk?”





	1. Breaking out

**Author's Note:**

> So much for speeding up with City of Light... I kept staying in the mood for this one instead. The second part should be up by Sunday.  
> I hope you guys will like this. :) Tell me what you think of it.

Years later Robb will remember this day as a turning point in his life. Maybe _the_ turning point. At the moment, though, it just looks like yet another time when the issue of Jon’s real parents has come up and he is trying to mend the blow of a lifetime.

“I know it’s hard to deal with, but this doesn’t change anything. You are my brother.” He says, feeling rather empty and sad while Jon’s crying into his pillow.

“You don’t understand.” Jon snaps and sits up. “You are always perfect, the good boy who never makes mistakes, blood of their blood. How can I compete with that?”

“You don’t have to compete. They love you just as much.”

“You know that’s not true. Nothing compares to their perfect firstborn.”

“Do you really think I’m perfect? I have bad traits just as you do!”

Jon lets out a dark chuckle. “Tell me one that could make us equals.”

 _I’m gay. I want another man to strip me naked and hold me down until I can’t feel the guilt of it in my veins._ “I - I’m not -”

But he’s too slow and too hesitant to stutter out his biggest secret, and Jon turns away in disappointment. “Leave me alone, Robb. Please.”

 

It all comes to a head at dinner when his mother gets an email from Mr. Baelish about how extraordinary Robb is and how good he is at his classes and she reads it aloud for the whole family to hear. His father gives him a proud smile and ruffles his hair as if he was five and his mother kisses him on the cheek. Usually, Robb would be at least slightly proud too, even though it’s obvious that Baelish has a crush on his Mum and couldn’t care less about him. But today he gets sick from it, from the undeserved adoration, from his siblings’ sour faces, from the secrets he keeps. He pushes away his full plate, murmurs some half-hearted excuse and runs up to his room. He punches a bedpost and breathes through the ache rippling up his arm. It hurts less than he would have liked it to. As he lies down and lowers his head to his pillow, the smell of laundry detergent and suburban summer tickles his nose. He bites his lip and presses his face harder into the bedding, seeking what, he doesn’t know. The air comes through the cotton in short sniffs, thick and hot from the exhales he traps under himself. His mind gets so heavy. In the absolute darkness, stars start dancing behind his eyelids. Is this how fainting begins? It would be easy to just stay like this until it’s over. _Mum would be so furious if I went through with it,_ he muses. No heaven for darling little Robb. No future either, just a cosy place under cold-hard soil. His throat tightens, from the darkness of his thoughts or from suffocation, he will never know, but it plants the stem of fear in his heart.

 _Enough,_ he thinks and recoils, gasping for air. _What’s the use of being good if it makes you miserable? Atonement can come after my sins have been committed._

He shoves his pain away, stuffs his most essential belongings into a backpack, climbs out of his window and runs away from home. He wants to be bad for once, for once in his fucking life.

 

The college party he goes to via his friend, Jory, turns out to be terrible. Robb doesn’t understand what the hype is about. He is standing in a corner, awkwardly sipping his drink, and wishing he had the guts to get smashed enough to lose control. He _needs_ to, though, if he is to defy the laws of God he has until now abided so diligently. He will chicken out with his restraints still in place.

There’s an older guy on the other side of the room that has piqued his interest as soon as he entered. Well, everybody’s older than Robb here, but he has that look on his face, that familiar sort of resentfulness that means he has seen a lot. He’s dressed in all black and has heavy leather boots that suggest he might be a biker. A typical parents’ nightmare-type bad boy who stirs up something dormant and vicious in Robb’s soul. His beautiful blue eyes and sardonic smile lure Robb in like fire draws a moth. His wings are burnt already.

Robb thinks about going over to him and introducing himself and his heart skips a beat. What would he think? Would he know that Robb is trying to pick him up? How does it go with two guys, is there some kind of protocol to it, some secret signal? Would he want to fuck a proper boy like Robb, in his khakis and navy blue dress shirt? Where would they do it?

While he’s working up his courage, a new person enters the room. He’s pale and short, and has a crazy grin plastered on his face that chills you to the bone. His eyes rake over the crowd with a predatory glint. It makes Robb shudder. Robb’s bad boy - the most curious thing - blanches at the sight and stands up, walks out of the room. In a rush of panic, Robb goes after him and ends up getting caught in his stalking on the porch.

“Hey.” He smiles nervously when the guy turns around to face him and leans back against the banister.

“Shit, these freshies keep getting younger.” He mutters and shoots Robb an unfriendly look. “No, I won’t give you a joint.”

“I didn’t -”

“Listen, kid. Skip the small talk, I’ve seen you watching me. What d’you want?”

 _You. I want you to peel away the makeup of lies from my skin, to take me apart and leave me stained._ “To talk?”

“I’m not here for talking. Fuck off.”

Good thing Robb has never been easily deterred. He follows the guy to the other side of the long porch and sits next to him when he plops down on the dust-covered wood. The boy gives him a tired glance and leans back against the wall behind them.

“C’mon, kid. Shoo. I came out here to drink my beer alone.”

Robb doesn’t reply. He swallows the last gulps of his own drink and puts the paper cup aside. He will throw it into the trash later, it can wait. The guy sighs and pulls out a cigarette, rolls it between his fingers. He glances at Robb’s face. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Fuck, _that_ young? Don’t you know to lie about that?” It didn’t even cross Robb’s mind. Usually, he can’t be honest with anyone else, sometimes not even himself, but tonight is for the truth. “You shouldn’t be here, kid. Go home to mummy and daddy.”

“Does it feel good? Mocking me?” Robb’s temper rises for a moment and it’s so refreshing after the dull ache of all the nothings he’s been feeling that he’s almost glad for it. He presses into the bruise on one of his knuckles until its center goes white. The hurt spreads through him like absolution.

“No. It feels the same as everything else.” The guy lights the cigarette and takes a long pull from it. Robb watches the smoke he blows out, mesmerized by the way his lips move, the way that white stick slides between their plump redness. He’s jealous of this stranger’s ease while he’s damaging God’s greatest gift, his life, the careless decadence he exhales with every breath. It’s sinful, but looks so… free. Robb wants to let go like that too.

“Who was that guy you ran away from?”

“I didn’t - goddamn it. You sure know how to ask the best questions.” The boy pulls another drag. “No one. Just another asshole from that bunch.” He gestures at the house.

Robb shifts closer. “Why are you here if you hate them so much?”

The guy shrugs. “Thought I might get a chick willing enough to enjoy the night with. Instead I’m stuck with a kid five years younger than me. What does that say about my life?”

He sounds bitter and resignated, but he doesn’t pull away when Robb’s leg touches his. Their feet knock together and a bit of dried mud falls off one heavy boot. Robb hopes it got his polished shoe dirty. “What about you? Why did you come?” There’s genuine curiosity in his voice.

Robb glances down at his hands. _I want to get a look at the rotten core of my apple to see if it can ruin me and expel me from Paradise._ “I felt jaded.”

“You’ve come to the right place then, kid. I’m an expert at feeling jaded.”

“Stop calling me kid.”

“You ain’t given me a name yet, did you?”

“Robb Stark.”

“Right.” The guy looks at him with a strange intensity that belies his uninterested facade. Robb stares back, admires the blackness that starts to swallow most of his grey-blue irises. A wave of seasalt and citrus hits him as he breathes in their mingled scents and the weird hope that it’s not only him who finds it pleasant fills Robb’s chest. He wets his lips and the boy’s gaze drops to them for a second before rising back up. “Do you smoke, Robb Stark?”

“No.”

“Pity.” He leans even closer, so close that his smoky exhale fans over Robb’s face. His eyes are sparkling. “We could have shared.”

“Well… I guess I can try it.” Robb stammers and gets a smirk in reply.

“Be my guest.”

He takes the cig from the guy’s hand and their fingers brush. It sends a tingle along Robb’s entire arm. How would it feel to have them slide over his body, touching, taking whatever they want? _Would_ they want? The nervous knots in Robb’s stomach turn into fluttering butterflies at the thought. _Let it be, God,_ he prays in mind and takes a drag from the cigarette, waiting, wanting it to hurt, but it doesn’t, it only chokes him and makes him cough. The taste of it leaves ash in the back of his throat and smoke in his lungs, the sense of sickness in his gut. It’s awful.

“Tastes like shit, innit?” The guy grins, picks that deathstick out of Robb’s hand and flicks it onto the concrete pathway leading to the backyard. “I hate it too.”

“Then why do you smoke it?”

“It’s easier to get rid of annoying people if they think you are an antisocial punk.” He drowns the rest of his beer, then throws the empty can away too. He aimes it for the closest trashbin, but it misses and lands on the deck, clattering away like an abandoned vessel, empty. “Figures this is the one time it fails me.”

Robb smiles at him. “What’s your name?”

The guy stares back for a long moment, then glances away. “Theon.”

“Are you a student?”

“No, I’m a plumber. Seriously, kid, what do I look like? Of course I’m a student.”

“Robb.”

“Sorry, _Robb.”_ Theon rolls his eyes and scratches at his stubble. Would it sting like sandpaper if Robb pressed his lips to it? “I study biology, which means my degree won’t be worth shit.” He drops his hand to rest in the narrow space between them. Is he reaching out too? Is that a sign? Robb can’t take his eyes away from it.

“Don’t say that. You can never know what God sends your way.”

Theon chuckles and the darkness of his voice makes Robb’s light flare. “Trust me, I know.”

The silence stretches between them like molasses, thick and syrupy. Robb curls his fingers towards his palm, straightens them, curls them up again, hesitating. He wants to touch, but not too fast, mustn’t look too eager, what if he is wrong about this whole thing? Inside, the music switches to a fast beat that matches the rhythm of his racing heart as he leans to the side, very, very slowly until his head rests on Theon’s shoulder. That, he can blame on the alcohol if things go south.

Theon takes a deep breath, one last inhale before the plunge. “How much did you have?” He whispers. He sounds strained, as if he was holding himself back the whole time. Robb wants him to forget that control, to snap and _take._

“Not much, just a bit of vodka. I’m sober.” He admits.

Theon’s head drops back against the wall behind them with a thunk. “Hope you aren’t lying, kid.” He huffs a laugh and yields, puts his hand on Robb’s and weaves their fingers together. He rubs circles into Robb’s fair skin with the pad of his thumb. “You are very attractive.”

Robb’s lips twitch into a small smile. “You aren’t bad yourself.”

They stay like this for a long time. Poised to go for it, but not yet daring to cross that line between companionate tipsyness and… sin. For it has to be a sin, if the want of it aches this bad, hasn’t it? The stronger that ache, the more Robb yearns for it. He won’t stay spotless tonight.

Theon’s breath stutters on a halted, unuttered word, then he clears his throat and tries again. “Have you ever done it with a guy?”

So it wasn’t a misunderstanding after all. A surge of excitement trembles through Robb’s limbs, ice cold and scalding at the same time. He blushes. “No. But I - I want to.”

Theon remains quiet for quite a while. He seems torn between the desire Robb awakes in him and the weight of committing the act. Is he at a war with his God too, just like Robb? Is he on the winning end?

“Want to get out of here, Robb Stark?” He ends up asking at last.

“Yeah.”

Theon stands and pulls Robb up with himself. “Are you hungry?”

 _Like a wolf, for you._ “I could eat.”

Theon nods and lets go of Robb’s hand. “I know a place.”

 

They go to a homey diner called Dragonstone, one of the few places that are open at such a late hour. Theon pulls his rusty car to a stop at a more or less hidden part of the parking lot, then gives Robb a wink and exits the vehicle. Robb stares after him in astonishment and is even more taken aback when the door on his side is pulled open. “Come on, princess. Our fine meal will go cold at this pace.”

Robb scrambles to his feet and socks him on the shoulder with his good hand in retaliation. Theon pretends to be hurt, although it was only a light touch. “Ow. You savage.” He whines and rubs at the spot.

When they enter, the diner is near empty. A bearded man, more salt than pepper now, is scrubbing the countertop while a blond little girl reads aloud for him. A woman dressed in a flimsy red robe is sipping her whiskey in the corner. Her mascara is smeared - she must have had a bad day. Robb can relate to that.

Theon throws an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close, their episode at the car forgotten. “What would you like?”

“I don’t know…” Robb mumbles. He doesn’t have much money to spare if he wants to get by alone until he finds some work.

“Tonight is on me.”

“Uhm… what about some coke?”

“Okay. Anything else? You said you could eat.”

Robb looks at him, at a loss. He has never been on a date like this - actually, is this a date? Or more like a long prelude to sex? “French fries?”

Theon smiles and kisses his cheek without warning. His lips burn hot-iron against Robb’s flesh and make his heart speed. “Fries it is, then.”

“Theon, you’re back.” Says the owner as he gets to the booth they have settled in.

“Hello, old man. I’ve brought someone this time.”

The man lowers his chin and gives Robb an assessing stare. “I can see that. What’s your name, son?”

“Robb. Uh, Robb Stark.”

“Stark.” He harrumps. “Your folks are decent people.”

 _Shit._ “You know them, sir?”

“I’m not a lord, boy. Just call me Davos.” The man grumbles, but there’s warmth in his eyes. “I know Ned and Catelyn, of course. From the church.”

Robb smiles in the polite way he has grown up knowing, but inside he’s screaming in panic. _What am I doing, oh my God, what am I doing? He’s gonna call Mum and it will be over, this moment of freedom. And then the disappointment..._ He should stop. The desire he’s trying to act on isn’t natural, however much he wants to bend over and taste sacrilege on his tongue. It’s unholy.

“Theon, he knows my parents!” He whisper-shouts after they have given their order and Davos has gone to reheat the leftovers for them.

“And?” Theon fiddles with the menu with no apparent care for Robb’s worries. His legs frame Robb’s under the tiny table, their knees only inches apart.

“I - He has seen you kissing me.” God, it feels so strange to say. But good, too good. Nothing close to how it felt when Jeyne was his girlfriend.

“Don’t worry, he won’t tattle.”

“Sure?”

“Sure. You know, Davos -” Theon gestures at the bar when he sees Robb is still unconvinced. “- is the partner of the owner, Stannis Baratheon. And by partner, I mean the sharing a bed kind.”

Well, that’s a surprise. Robb has never met anyone who didn’t hide it, this sick preference. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Are they… happy? Living like that?”

“Like what?”

 _In sin._ “Without a woman?”

Theon looks at the little girl who’s reading on her high stool. The shadows of a smile appear on his face. “I think so.”

Robb has nothing to say to that. He has to - to think things through before - if - going further. “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles and slides out of his seat.

The diner’s bathroom turns out to be clean and well-equipped. There aren’t any stains on the walls and it’s not smelly either, a small miracle. Robb goes to a sink and splashes cold water on his face. Maybe he should go home and just tell his parents. _Mum, Dad, I’m gay._ Easy, direct. They are so kind and they love him so much - they might understand. But the shame, oh the shame of it… He will never be able to look them in the eye again. If Theon fucks him, he can decide, at least, whether it’s worth it or not.

All of a sudden, the door bursts open and Theon saunters in. His expression is blank, devoid of any feeling, but his gaze is sharper than before. Robb’s mouth goes dry. This must be it. They’ve got the perfect setting, Theon can have him over the sink or in a stall and be done with it. It doesn’t sound appealing at all, but Robb will soldier on. He has to test himself.

Theon steps closer and raises a hand, then hesitates, lets it fall back to his side. He’s going to order Robb to suck his cock any second, it’s sure. Robb waits for the command, but he gets a quiet question instead. “Are you okay?”

In his surprise, he can’t think of an appropriate answer. Theon furrows his brows and puts his previously retracted hand on Robb’s shoulder. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I’m - I’m okay.” He stammers before Theon will do just that. The last place he wants to be right now is home. “Just had to…” He gestures at the urinals on the adjacent wall.

“Of course.” Theon squeezes his shoulder, then grins. “I’ve got to piss too.”

He unzips his trousers and leaves Robb’s side, all signs of concern vanishing into thin air. Still stunned, Robb stares at his back until Theon clears his throat. “You know, Robb, I’m not shy, but it’s not polite to stare.”

“Sorry.” God, how embarrassing.

“No worries.” The sounds of splashing stop, then there’s the snick of a zip and the tap next to Robb turns on. Robb doesn’t look up from his shoes until Theon elbows him gently. “Our food must be ready by now.”

They eat their leftover French fries and drink cheap coke in silence, sitting across each other. Now that his burst of panic has calmed and Robb can think clearly again, he realises that Theon doesn’t _expect_ him to spread his legs, not really. He might still want to do it, but he won’t force anything. It’s so great a relief that he feels a rush of something that goes beyond physical cravings. Something akin to fondness.

“Are you planning to run away or what?” Theon jerks his chin at the stuffed backpack Robb has dropped to their feet.

Robb shrugs and busies himself with his food, avoiding eye contact. _That_ shouldn’t be Theon’s concern. It’s his own decision, no one is going to take it from him.

“Robb, that’s a stupid thing to do.” Theon puts his bottle down and reaches halfway across the table. “I know, I’m one to talk about stupid things, but… really, you shouldn’t do that.”

Robb casts his eyes down. He hates scolding. “I don’t wanna go home.” He mutters.

“Why?”

“I can’t take what’s going on there anymore.” At Theon’s questioning look, he adds. “Pretention. So much pretention. You wouldn’t understand.”

Theon’s lips curl into a cynical smile. “Maybe I can prove you wrong on that.”

Robb sighs and starts picking at the label on his coke bottle. “I have five younger siblings and everyone in the family expects me to… to show a good example, the best possible outcome. Any mistake I make has five times the impact it would have if it wasn’t me. I… I work all the time. Bear my responsibilities. But I’ve been keeping so much inside, every weakness and fear -” _every sinful thought, every dirty wish_ “- and I can’t take the lies and deception anymore.”

“That’s tough.”

“It’s - I know there are far worse situations, but I - I can’t.”

“I understand.” Theon gives him a tired look and closes the last remaining distance between their hands. Robb blinks up at him, his heart in his throat.

“I’m going to be eighteen in four months and they don’t even know I’m gay.” He whispers. “No one knows.”

“I know now.” They share a tiny smile and Theon takes his hand back. _This isn’t a romantic dinner,_ Robb reminds himself. _Don’t make it into something beyond the pull of compatible bodies._ “Why don't you tell them?”

Robb’s cheeks heat up. He has to reassure himself that Theon doesn’t hear his thoughts, therefore he can’t react to them. “I don’t know how they would take it. They are very tolerant, but…” They have a cross in their bedroom. The Bible on the night stand. The sermons sheduled for sundays in the calendar. Where does it fit in, a son with his tongue down a man’s throat? “Do yours know?”

“I’m not gay.”

“You aren’t?”

Theon gives him a _‘duh_ ’ look and pops a fry into his mouth. “I’m bisexual. But they don’t know. Mum’s dead and my father is a rotten drunkard. No use telling him, I’m kicked out already as it is.”

“Where do you live then?”

“Shacked up with my sister. I make do with part-time jobs until I get my fucking degree. I’ve worked here too.”

“I see.”

Abruptly, Theon’s hand snatches Robb’s bruised right one, presses at a joint with too much force for Robb’s bruises. “What did you do to your knuckles?”

Robb hisses and wrenches it away, trying to shake the pain out of his bones. “Punched my bed.”

“I see it hit back.” Theon smirks.

“It’s a sturdy thing.”

“It should very well be. I bet it’ll have to stand a lot of action in the next few years, if you catch my drift.” He winks.

Robb laughs. “Not likely.” He could barely get it up for Jeyne, no other woman would make him lose it. And bringing men home sounds like a deathwish.

Theon considers him for a moment. “Are you a virgin?”

“I’m not.” Robb blushes to the roots of his hair. God, he almost wishes he was. He could have gone without that experience.

“No?”

“I’ve been going out with a girl for a few months, but we broke up a while ago. She, uh, wanted to try it at least once before marriage.”

“And it was so bad that she broke up with you?”

“No, it’s…” Theon raises an eyebrow and Robb sighs. “Okay, it wasn’t very good, but that wasn’t the issue. Not the only issue.” Best not keep this one a secret... “Our families are kind of religious.” Uncle Benjen in particular is an actual priest and Jon intends to follow the same path.

“Ah.”

“And because we -” _fucked under the covers in the dullest missionary ever_ “- because we did it… if we look at it from the conservative viewpoint, we’ve committed a sin and since it was her who suggested it, she thought it was all her fault. She said I was too good for her and left.”

Theon snorts. It must sound so ludicrous to him, how faith can define one’s feelings about such a basic need, but this is Robb’s life. No. This _was_ his life. “I’m fed up with morality and sins. I don’t want to be too good anymore.”

They stare at each other over the heavy words still hanging in the air. From the radio behind the counter, the sounds of a slow country song reach their booth. It’s soothing, goes well with the darkness and the small diner, but does nothing to pacify Robb’s racing heart. He has never been this open with anyone in this world. It feels like bleeding and waiting for the healing touch to descend on the wound.

When the song ends, Theon gets up and sits next to him, eyes never leaving his face. Does he still want Robb? “You really don’t?”

“If being good means I can’t love whoever I want, I’d rather be bad.”

Theon gives him a lopsided smile - Robb traces its curve with his gaze, tries to think of something similarly alluring, finds nothing - and kisses Robb square on the lips.

It’s - nothing at first, just a jolt of surprise, because it is so soft, so chaste - then Theon presses harder and Robb’s mouth opens and it’s suddenly wet and there’s stubble and teeth and Robb slips into it like an avalanche, melting into the leather of his seat. He will never be able to kiss a girl again.

Theon nips him in parting and straightens up. “So, how was your first kiss with a guy?”

“Tasted like fries and coke.” Robb whispers and puts a tentative hand on Theon’s neck. He feels the warm throb of a pulse under his fingers. “It was incredible.”

Theon leans in again, slowly this time, and rubs their noses together. He’s playing, entertaining himself, but for Robb, these moments are dead serious. Every touch shocks him like electricity. “Want another one?”

 _Another thousand._ Robb nods and they start making out with an intensity that sucks the breath out of his chest and leaves him lightheaded. If only he knew it was possible to kiss like that…

They slide down the seat until Robb is halfway to lying. They kiss like long-lost lovers, as if they have been doing this their whole lives and only just remembered. It’s a connection Robb can’t explain, something that clicks into place and shakes up his snowglobe to make its particles glitter.

After a few seconds - minutes? hours? - Theon lets Robb’s lips go and leans back, just enough to move into focus. He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling. “I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?”

Robb arches a brow. “Isn’t this a little late for panicking?”

“Just - you are seventeen.”

“I’m seventeen, not a baby.” He proves it with another searing kiss, pressing hard into Theon’s mouth. “And I could outpower you anytime I wanted.” Theon snorts, but the worry gradually eases off his face. He lets Robb explore his neck too, opens his jacket for better access, and Robb mumbles against his Adam’s apple. “You can’t take advantage of me.”

Someone clears their throat right beside their table and they jump apart, ruffled and embarrassed. Davos picks up their plates with infuriating calm, then gives them a knowing look. “Closing time, boys. Be safe.”

 


	2. Freedom

 

Outside, very much affected by what happened only minutes before, Robb is going for the passenger side door a bit dazedly, but Theon catches him around the waist and stirs him back.

“Uh-uh. Backseat.”

“O-okay.” Robb stutters, suddenly nervous, and slides into the back of the car. Theon comes after him and locks the door behind them.

“I thought we could have a little fun before I take you home.” He gives Robb a pensive look. “Sounds good?”

Robb nods. He doesn’t wait for Theon to take the first step, but lunges forward and pushes him up against the window, kissing. The glass is cold and wet, fogged up - this north it gets chilly at night even in June. Theon pushes back and it’s almost wrestling now, for dominance, for the upper hand. Robb loves the force, succumbs to it faster than he can even think about slamming the brakes. His nose is pressed into the soft skin of Theon’s cheek as they try to crawl into each other and he mumbles soundless prayers against red-hot lips, _cover me in smears and leave me marked, give my God an evidence to our blasphemy._

“Tell me if you want to stop.” Theon breaks away from his mouth, panting.

“I don’t want to stop.”

“You don’t even know what I have in store for you.”

“I don’t care. Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure you want to go on?”

“Yes, yes, I want - I want everything.”

“Then -” Theon smiles, eyes full of mischief. “- I’m gonna suck you off.” He announces and Robb almost comes in his pants then and there. As Theon scrambles into a constricted crouch between his feet, he shakily unbuttons his trousers and prays for a kernel of self-restraint - this might be over sooner than it can start for real.

“Has your girlfriend ever done this?” Theon smirks and pulls Robb’s cock out of his underwear, begins stroking.

“N-no.” God, Robb is leaking everywhere, is that okay? Or is it - should he be embarrassed? No one has touched him this way before, Jeyne was too shy, she didn’t even look, she just -

Theon leans down, kisses the head and swirls his tongue around it and Robb loses his train of thought. “What about this?”

“Oh Jesus.” Robb moans, dribbling even more. “Please do that again, please, Theon, please.”

Theon grins up at him. “Relax.”

Despite Robb’s best efforts, it does go over fast. Theon hasn’t lied: he doesn’t have a morsel of shyness (nor shame) when it comes to this. He’s excessively dirty and minds nothing, not the fluids, not the tugging in his hair, not even Robb’s loud whimpers. He kneads Robb’s thighs and pulls him further down the seat until he is slouched barely on the edge, legs splayed wide.

He pulls away from Robb’s cock for a moment, pressing his thumb against the red crown of it, and smiles. “Come whenever you feel like it.”

Robb is sweating from pleasure and strain. He wants to topple over and at the same time, he wants to draw it out for as long as he can. He can’t believe he got to this point - and this is just the beginning. There’s a man between his legs, sucking at his cock, his spit-slick lips on brazen display - the burn of it knocks sinful moans out of his throat. This dark, humid pleasure spreads through him in sticky waves until the smell, the filthy-wet sounds and the sight, that gorgeous sight tip him over the edge. He cries out and pulses, struggling to thrust up against the hold Theon locks around his hips. Years of frustration and repression burst through him as all his floodgates open and he comes gasping the Lord’s name in vain. Theon doesn’t let him go until Robb turns limp, only then does he settle back next to his weak-limbed body, smug as all hell.

“Oh my God… that was… uh, that was...” Robb’s mind is ablaze. He’s too satisfied to feel ashamed, to even think about concepts like shame. Yet. He has never thought facing his demons would feel like heaven, but it does, God, it does.

“I know. Your first blowjob. And a great one at that.” Theon says and licks his lips once more. “I’ll take you home now, okay?”

What? But they have barely even started. Has it been so bad that he would rather dispose of Robb sooner? “But you -”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about that.”

“Theon…”

“I’m good.” Theon insists, but his voice wavers when Robb ghosts a hand over his crotch.

“You are hard.”

Theon sighs through his nose. “Yes, Robb. I’m hard.”

“Can I - can I do something?” Robb stammers and scoots closer. Right now he’d be willing to try anything Theon suggests.

Theon slumps back against the seat in defeat. He undoes his trousers and tugs his boxers down. His cock springs out immediately, so hard that it curves up into his stomach. Robb stares at it in wonder. How’s it going to feel in his body? It looks big, can they even get it into his ass?

Theon reaches out and strokes his thumb over Robb’s lips. “Give me your hand.”

Robb does. His fingers are shaking and he hates himself a little because making a tight enough fist hurts his banged up knuckles, but touching that silky skin gives him a thrill that overrides everything unpleasant. He steels himself and bears the pain as his rightful punishment for this entire quest he has gone on tonight. He feels burning shame, tingling in the roof of his mouth, but his heart, oh his heart, that bottomless pit, just craves more and more hellfire.

“Don’t you want to… fuck me?” He whispers against Theon’s neck and kisses him there. The cock in his hand jerks, but Theon keeps his calm.

“God, of course I want to. You are bloody handsome.” He cards a hand through Robb’s hair and gives him a kiss. “But you don’t want that.”

“I do!”

“Alright, you do. But not for the right reasons.”

“What are the right reasons?”

“Love, I guess.”

Robb groans and drops his head to Theon’s shoulder. His hand pauses, gentles his touch into something so slow it’s teasing. Body and soul are separate things, why is it so important to give both to the same person? He tried it with Jeyne, love wasn’t enough to make things good. “I still want it.”

Theon grunts and flexes his hips, chasing the pleasure Robb tuned down for him. “Wait for the right person, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

Theon chuckles. “No, you are not.”

Appeased, Robb focuses back on the task at hand. Is he doing it well? It’s easier than the awkward fumbling he has tried with Jeyne, but he has to make sure. “Is this good?”

“Yeah.” Theon hums and spreads his legs further apart. “Just a little faster.”

Robb smiles and complies, fascinated by the reactions he receives. They give him the intoxicating impression of power. He experiments with the tricks he has worked out on himself in the secrecy of the night, when desire got over his self-control. His hand makes a twist and tightens - despite the pain - and Theon cries out, going rigid under his pressing weight. “Yes, oh yesss.”

He looks nice when he comes, Robb thinks. Eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape, muscles tense, only for the tightness to melt away into something honestly naked and graceful when he gets down from his high. His lips curl into a serene smile. Robb takes his hand back. Curious, he licks some of the come off his fingers, then has to wrinkle his nose at not so much the taste, but the texture.

“Here.” Theon smirks at his expression and offers him a tissue. “It takes some time to get used to.”

Robb can imagine. “Now what?”

“Now we rest for a bit, because I’m a shitty driver after sex.”

“You had that tested?”

“You could say that.”

“Just how many times have you done this?”

“This? Never.” Theon wipes the sweat off his forehead and straightens his clothing while he’s catching his breath. He doesn’t look at Robb’s face. “But I did quite a number of other stuff. Mostly with chicks.”

“Do you regret them?”

“I regret only one.”

“The guy from the party?” Robb curls a tentative arm around Theon’s torso and leans his head on his chest.

“Yeah.” Theon strokes his cheek with the back of his hand. Its gentleness throws Robb for a loop. Isn’t this supposed to be a quick and crude one-time thing? Not that he minds. In fact, he’d like more of the sweetness if possible. “That’s why I can say from experience that you should wait for the right person, find better reasons to get your cherry popped than a fit of defiance.”

“How do you -”

“I can see it in your eyes. They turn scared when it’s a possibility that I might actually fuck you. Which I would totally do in different circumstances.”

Robb bites his bottom lip. He wants to object, but Theon’s probably right. He’s not ready. Not - not for that. But he could be, he feels it in the marrow of his bones. “Theon?”

“Hm?”

“I think I might find the right reasons if you gave me a chance.”

“Robb.” He sighs. “Stop daydreaming. I’m too bad for you. We can have a good night, but then you will have to go on with your perfectly nice life without me and I with my perfectly shitty one without you. I would only be a burden.”

“What if I’m sick of perfectly nice?”

“Then open your cage.”

“What cage?”

“You are like the pure white dove in a fairy tale I heard once.” He caresses Robb’s arm. Another peculiarly affectionate gesture that drives Robb mad with confusion. “The poor little dove in her gilded cage, kept well and admired by all, but so, so miserable, because she’s locked up in a lie.”

Robb swallows. That kinda hit home. “Very poetic. But what if the dove has the key, only she is afraid to open the cage, because she doesn’t know how freedom feels like?”

Theon pauses, his index finger tracing absent-minded patterns on Robb’s shoulder. The neon glow of the diner’s sign flickers, then dies out. It leaves the streetlight as their only source of illumination. The change in ambience makes Robb drowsy. He imagines they are in his comfy bed, dozing together, and his eyes close on their own volition.

“Hey, are you falling asleep on me?” Theon nudges him back to alertness.

“Sorry.” Robb yawns. “I was waiting for your answer.”

“So… you want me to show you how it feels like?”

“Yes.” _Show me how to let go._

“Okay. Just this once, I’ll work my charm.” Theon shifts away and flashes a playful smile that’s dimmed only by the raw glint in his eyes. “But it only lasts for one night.”

His warning is playful, but there’s a real threat behind it. _Don’t get me wrong, this is still a one-night stand. You are nothing to me as much as I am nothing to you. Don’t try stepping over the boundaries._

Robb decides he’d rather answer the joking message than the unsaid one. He isn’t sure anymore how he stands on the latter. “Thanks, fairy godmother.”

Theon chuckles, the dangerous gleam disappearing. “Shut up, Cinderella.”

 

They relocate to the front seats. Robb’s legs are still somewhat wobbly, but he makes it inside without embarrassing himself, thankfully. The engine revs into work and they are off to God knows where within a minute. It’s exciting, going to the unknown with someone he barely knows - Robb’s pulse speeds up again from the sense of adventure. He rides slouched against the window, his hands fisted in the sleeves of the jacket he has shrugged on. A distant voice in the back of his mind screams at him to be more careful, to flee from this stranger who might harm him, but the truth is, he just doesn’t care anymore. He wants this adrenaline high to go on as long as it can, to erase the mundane aftertaste of his white picket fence life.

Theon turns the radio on. Most stations he finds play trashy pop hits, except for the one that airs some Ed Sheeran song Robb recognises only because Sansa keeps listening to it. Theon sneers after two words and turns the mode to CD.

“Do you like Dire Straits?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Good, ‘cause that’s the only thing I have in this old rustbucket and I’m not listening to some teenager whining on the radio.”

Robb bites back a smile. “I think Ed Sheeran is older than you.”

Theon turns to him with a wide-eyed look of _Are you for real?_ that makes him laugh. “My sister loves his music.”

“Suuuure, your sister.”

“Stop it, it’s true.” Grinning, Robb turns back ahead. His phone’s buzzing in his jacket pocket - it’s Jon. He turns the damn thing off. Theon doesn’t mention it. Mark Knopfler is droning on about gambling or something, the sound crackling every now and then after they pass the city borders. But Robb isn’t listening to the song. He’d rather pay attention to his own hammering heart, wondering if Theon does the same.

 

They end up on a hill far enough from the city that the sky isn’t hidden behind the heavy cloak of light pollution. Theon parks the car at the edge of a clearing that has a view of the valley leading to the sea. It has an eerie atmosphere, like a sanctuary. And it’s prime serial killer playground, Robb’s mind supplies, but he waves the thought away. He gets lost in the stars above, instead. He can’t see them too often, the city’s too big for that, but up here he can admire the sight all he likes. From here, all those burning gas balls are chrystal-shards glittering on pitch black nothing, scary and magnificent.

“Beautiful, huh?” Theon calls out, leaning against the hood of his car. He sounds subdued. Awed, perhaps.

“Yeah…”

“I like to come here when I need to be alone.”

Robb looks down into the valley and beyond that, the vast expanse of the sea. There’s no one else around, not a soul who could frown on their behaviour. They could do anything they want. No restrictions, no expectations. The only one who can judge them right now is the Lord himself. And Robb has already decided to give no damn about that tonight. The realisation supplies him with an idea. “You know what we should do? A shouting match.”

“Shouting match?”

“To let everything out.”

“I don’t think -“

“Who-hoo!” Robb yells into the void, grinning. The lukewarm, salty air fills his lungs with the sense of liberty.

Theon starts laughing. “You are crazy.”

Robb shouts again and again like a lunatic until Theon covers his mouth and tackles him to the ground. They roll around in the thick grass, breathless from laughter.

“That felt good.” Robb sighs when he stops, splayed on his back, and grins up at the blackness above. He thinks about those timelapse videos where all the stars move around an apparently fix Earth. He thinks about the universe enveloping them and feels insanely insignificant, light as a feather. He feels so good.

“Do you know any constellations?” He asks.

“No.” Theon’s breathing shakes from residual mirth. “But I know how many insects we are lying on right now.”

“Ew, please spare me the details.”

“As you wish.”

“I know a few.”

“Insects?”

“Constellations!”

They laugh again. Robb gets bolder from the giddiness, moves closer until their shoulders and the sides of their heads press together. Theon quiets down, but he doesn’t reject the proximity. His hair tickles Robb’s temple.

Robb points up at a random cluster of stars and whispers. “That’s the Sagittarius.”

Theon snorts. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, and how would you know?”

“Just look at it, does it even remotely remind you of an archer?”

“No?”

Theon laughs again. “See? I’m right.” He nudges Robb’s head with his own. “I should know what an archer looks like  - I wanted to be a professional one when I was a kid.”

Robb smiles. He wanted to be Napoleon for a while in kindergarten. “What happened?”

“Life. Broke one too many fingers when I was your age.” But then it wasn’t even long ago - Theon speaks as though it happened in another lifetime.

“I’m sorry.” Robb puts his hand on Theon’s. It must be a sensitive topic.

Theon sighs and parts his fingers until Robb’s slip into the spaces between them. They are holding hands under a canopy of far-away worlds and there’s no lightning strike. The ground doesn’t open up to swallow them into hell, there are no bigots lurking in the bushes with stones and tar. God doesn’t seem furious at all. Robb begins to see a ray of hope. Maybe - maybe it doesn’t have to end in disaster. Perhaps he can do this - going home and telling his parents. If he knew he had at least one person who would say it’s okay… Running, escaping might not be the only option he could take.

“What happens to the dove? In the fairy tale.” He whispers.

“She falls in love with a robin who breaks her out of the cage. But that robin is a careless bird and doesn’t help her learn about the world, about cold and rain and predators. The little dove doesn’t know friend from enemy and gets eaten by a tabby cat.”

What a dreadful tale. “That’s so sad.”

Theon shrugs, fakes indifference. “My mother used to read me stories like that. I don’t have many memories of her, but I can tell you every single one of her tales. Funny how our minds work, huh? You can’t always get what you really want.”

 _But you can make the most of what you have,_ Robb thinks. He has been so stupid these past years, forcing himself on a route that wouldn’t bring anyone happiness. At the moment, he can look at it in a different light, one that isn’t clouded by fear, and he comes to the conclusion that no merciful God would want anyone to take that path if there was another. He just wishes his parents would think that. Would they? Back home, they’ve never talked about sexuality. It was a taboo, in a way, like abortion. It didn’t have to be said that there are two natural ways, one for men and one for women, and all others are perversions. But what if - what if Robb surmised that without any real evidence? What if he jumped to the worst case scenario when he ran away? He can’t be sure, right? He can take a bit of a dent in the picture of his perfection without completely ruining it, can he not?

Theon’s head turns towards him, his forehead and the tip of his nose brushing Robb’s skin. “All those stars have their own planets and a few of those must have their own aliens.” He says. “They might be looking up at their own dark sky while we are staring right back. Sometimes, when I’m lying here I pretend they can hear me.”

“What do you tell them?”

“That I hope they didn’t have to bomb their Molecular Genetics exam.” Theon huffs a laugh against his cheek and Robb snickers along. Then they fall into silence. “I tell them I miss my mother. That I’m afraid to go home because my father might kill me in his drunken haze. And once I confessed I tried to hold a bow like I used to until my fingers bled, even though I knew I couldn’t. Here, I can tell all my secrets. They keep it.”

Slowly, Robb turns his head too. He isn’t able to see much more than outlines, shapes, the glint of an eye, but he doesn’t really have to. Theon smiles. Somehow, it has a sound, bittersweet and honest. “And I feel lighter because of that.”

Robb kisses him then, this time without purpose, without any instinct at play. It’s still neither right, nor honorable, but it doesn’t feel wrong in this moment. It only feels… normal. Like it’s something the two of them could do to offer comfort.

Theon barely kisses him back, but it’s okay - he must think he shared too much. Darkness and intimacy tend to bring that out in people. Robb pulls away and turns back to the sky. He reaches up with his arms, towards the stars with their planets and all their watching aliens, and imagines brushing their warm cores. The wind picks up and ruffles the grass all around them, breezes through the cracks between his fingers. If he ignores the trees in the periphery of his vision and the soil under his back, he can pretend there’s nothing grounding him at all. “I feel like I’m flying.”

Theon doesn’t turn away from his cheek when he replies. “We are nothing but dust particles on a ball of stone, endlessly speeding through space. We _are_ flying, Robb.” For a second, Robb thinks Theon’s going to kiss him too. But even if he feels the same pull on his heart, he doesn’t express it. “You wanted me to show you freedom. This is what it feels like.”

 _No,_ Robb thinks, _this is what falling in love feels like._ Or maybe they are the same after all.

 

They watch the sunrise at the harbour, because Robb pleads to spend the whole night out and, in his own words, Theon has grown far too compliant over the course of a single night. They don’t talk much more about the things that matter, because meaningful words seem dangerous. They might ask for a future neither of them can promise for sure. A few hours on the backseat of the old car, that’s all they get until the sunshine paints the horizon orange-pink.

“They are probably looking for me by now.” Robb mutters and rubs his aching, exhausted eyes.

Theon stops petting his hair. “Probably.”

Robb sits up straight and - he knows the terms they agreed on, he knows this is the end, but - he has to try for something more. “Theon, I -”

“Shh.” Theon gives him a lopsided smile and brushes the corner of his mouth. “Time to go home, Robb Stark. Our night is up.”

There’s nothing Robb can say to that. Theon drives them back into the city and as far as the driveway of the Starks' house, then comes to a halt hidden behind the giant plane tree that stands next to the fence. He doesn’t kill the engine - wants to go as soon as he’s free to. Desperate, Robb leans over the partition and kisses him. Theon welcomes him at first, just as intense as he was at the Dragonstone, then he seems to catch himself and pulls back.

“You should go.” Robb ignores him and their lips meet once again. It lasts longer than a minute, but that’s not enough. Robb wants days, weeks, months of this feeling.

“C’mon, kid.” Theon shoves at his chest weakly, but Robb is deaf and blind to anything other than _yes_ and _more._ He keeps kissing until Theon turns his head away. _“Robb.”_

Robb drops his gaze and nods. He should go. Either back to lies and pretention or to fix his world for himself. He should open the door, climb out, take his backpack and - oh for God’s sake. He looks back up and presses his face into Theon’s cheek, clutches at his shirt. “Let’s meet once more. Please, please, Theon.”

The muscles around Theon’s jaw jump, Robb feels them work as Theon grinds his teeth. “My magic won’t work another time. You may find that I’m plain as the robin or dangerous as the tabby cat.” His tone is back to that peculiar mix of mocking and threatening.

Robb doesn’t give a fuck about danger after the night he has been through. “You may be all that and a lot worse, but I can handle it. I’m smarter than the dove. Give me a chance.”

Theon stares ahead, grip white-knuckled on the steering wheel, his features drawn into a tight frown. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” He murmurs, very quietly.

Robb places his wounded hand on top of the one Theon has on the gear stick and squeezes. “Yet you hurt me by refusing.”

Waiting for the reply is like expecting  a verdict, it's unnerving. But when Theon’s shoulders sag, Robb knows he has won. And what a sweet victory it is.

“Just so that you can pay me back for the meal.” Theon disentangles himself from Robb’s arms and holds up a finger in warning. “Tomorrow, six pm at Davos’ diner. Don’t be late.”

Robb’s smile is so wide it must be blinding. “Agreed.” He leans over for one more kiss - and Theon meets him halfway for this one.

 

Inside the house, Robb tries sneaking up into his room, but when your entire family is eating breakfast in the kitchen, it’s a little hard to be inconspicuous.

“Robb!” His mum greets him with a warm smile and beckons him over. Robb cringes. He looks like he spent the night in a park like a hobo (which he sort of did, but it would have been nice if his mother didn’t get to know that).

“Darling, Jon told us you were sleeping at Jeyne’s.” Oh Jon. Covering for him even after all that has gone over in his own life. Robb shoots his brother a grateful look, then looks down at his shoes. There’s a bit of smeared mud on one - he smiles when he sees it. Who would have known what was going to happen?

His mother goes on, oblivious. “Don’t look so embarrassed, my dear, I think you are old enough for _that_ sort of sleepover.”

Christ. Is it too late to ask for the ground to swallow him up? If there’s an ultimate mortification, this must be it, his mother thinking about that. Coming out can’t be much worse, right? Robb squares his shoulders.

“Mum, Dad?” He clears his throat. _Now or never._ “There’s something I want to tell you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos if you had fun! :)


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